


Magnetism

by UnknownSatellite84



Series: Seventh Heaven [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: A Few Drops of Blood, Alternate Season 03 Episode 01, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Arguing, Blow Job, Blow Job with Teeth, Bottom Barry, Control, Eobard Being an Asshole, Explicit Sexual Content, Flashpoint (DCU), Fucked Up, Hate Sex, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Male Slash, Mild Pain Kink, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mildly Dubiously Consentual Blow Job, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Orgasm, Orgasm Delay, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Self-Hatred, Shameless Smut, Some stuff besides Porn, Sorry Not Sorry, Strong Language, Top Eobard Thawne, Voyeurism, Wall Sex, choke kink, first time blow job
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-28
Updated: 2017-06-28
Packaged: 2018-11-19 22:08:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11322690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnknownSatellite84/pseuds/UnknownSatellite84
Summary: " 'Youwantme to drag you over there," Thawne accused suddenly, brows furrowed in a frown. "Don't you? Because of that, I won't do it.' "'Won't you?' Barry whispered, having no sense of who he was or what he'd done with theactualBarry Allen.Or maybe this is who I really am,the dark thought flitted through his mind.Weak, stupid, lusting after a monster, giving myself to him willingly.After all, this washim, here and now, gazing up at the man who'd once murdered his mother. It didn't matter that this was a different timeline. All of the events from the other one were still very real memories for him.Thawne smirked. 'While you're down there, you may as well make your mouth useful. Open, Pet.Now.'"***************************************************************************************************Eobard Thawne seduces Barry Allen during Flashpoint once again.





	Magnetism

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah... I wrote a sequel to Phantasmagoria. Somebody needs to shoot me before I write a part three, four, five, and these get really filthy. I already feel like this one is filthier. T-T I'm going to burn in hell for this... And for the record, I actually don't know if I am going to write more or not. Depends on if I get inspired or not.  
> I hope you guys enjoy it!
> 
> But, this time I feel 10x more comfortable posting. Part one gave me confidence and inspiration to write more! :D Thanks for all the lovely comments, those of you who did comment on Phantasmagoria!
> 
> Note - just kind of ignore the ending on part one. As far as this series is concerned, that ending takes place after this.
> 
> Again, I have to extend my thanks to Serenityreview for the idea behind this! :)

Barry cranked the water in the shower to a setting just below lukewarm. To his skin, it felt cold, which was exactly what he wanted. He knew he didn’t deserve the comfort of a warm shower after what he’d done, anyway. He wanted to wash away everything that had happened. The memory of it lurked in his mind, and he kept shivering, kept feeling unwanted hands on his body, kept experiencing the stings of long-healed scuffs and bites, kept hearing a harsh, arrogant voice in his ears. In spite of the chill of the water, it felt delicious to have the sticky, dried fluids and dirt washing away from his skin. It couldn’t get rid of the underlying filthiness of the ordeal, of course, but it was easier now - easier to close his eyes, to try, try and pretend it hadn't happened.

He was grateful the clothes he’d worn to the cell earlier weren’t exactly special in any way. He threw them in a dumpster at a nearby store after shredding them with a vibrating hand - save for his jacket. Everything else was ruined, as far as he was concerned. He was also glad his parents were at work. It’d be odd explaining why he was showering at two in the afternoon. And he was afraid they’d have taken one look at his disheveled state and _known -_ known from the guilt on his face that he'd done something awful.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, though he wasn’t exactly sure what he was apologizing for. No. He knew what he was apologizing for. What he didn’t know was who he was trying to apologize to. Himself? His parents? Iris, even?

Shame clawed at him at the thought of Iris, beautiful and wonderful. She deserved so much better than him. Someone like Eddie Thawne.

He wanted to slam his head against the wall.

_Thawne_.

That name was always there in his life. Always haunting him. Always tormenting him. He was cursed, somehow, to forever be chased by it.

And now...

_I...just…_

He couldn’t even come up with an excuse in his mind for what had happened. There was no explanation.

No acceptable explanation, anyway.

Not only had what he done been so wrong, but also stupid. Thawne _could_ have killed him like that, naked, helpless, lost in pleasure under the Reverse-

_No. Stop._

_Stop._

He couldn’t let himself dwell on it.

But he didn't know how to stop it.

* * *

"You're being quiet," his mother commented at dinner, worry plain in her expression. "Is everything all right, my beautiful boy?"

Barry blinked. "O-of course," he replied. "Just tired, is all. It was...a long and exhausting day."

She didn't look like she bought his excuse, but she just nodded. "Alright... You know you can talk to us, right, if there's anything wrong?"

_Not about this,_ Barry wanted to say back. There were _so_ many reasons why he couldn't talk about this with her - so many awful reasons. "I know."

"Any luck with that girl at Jitters you like, Slugger?" his dad asked.

He shook his head, gut twisting with humiliation again. "N-not yet," he replied, staring at his plate. He realized he hadn't touched it at all.

He saw his parents exchange a glance from his peripheral vision.

"Barry," his mom said softly.

_That_ night from fifteen years ago flashed through Barry's head -

_Thawne stood, face twisted with glee, the knife jutting from his fist. Nora looked up at him, sobbing and begging. "N-no, p-please! I have a family! A son!"_

_"I know."_

_He thrust it forward, into her chest -_

Barry's throat closed, and he bit his lip hard enough it stung. It was suddenly too much. He didn't want to be comforted. He didn't want to be treated with the utmost love his parents gave him. He didn't deserve any of it. He swallowed and looked up. "S-sorry," he stammered and stood. "I...I'm not feeling so good. I've got...allergies - no, a cold. I'm gonna get to bed and get some extra sleep," he said quickly. Before either of them could say a word, he left the kitchen and bounded up the stairs to his room. He shut the door behind him and collapsed onto the bed.

He tossed and turned the entire night, unable to sleep for even a second. He just stared at his ceiling or walls and thought of everything but the psychopath he kept in a cage in an abandoned warehouse on the edges of the city he loved.

Anything but him.

* * *

Six days had gone by since the...incident, as Barry had started calling it in his mind. It was better than _the time he’d let himself be fucked by his worst enemy,_ either way _._ In that time, Barry hadn’t gone to Jitters once. He was too ashamed to. It’d take some time, he knew, but the shame would wear away. The mistake would fade, and he would learn from it. He would fix his life.

Hopefully.

He'd finally just told his parents that Iris had rejected him to keep them from prying anymore than necessary. It at least made them less worried.

He hated Thawne. The Reverse Flash would always mess with his head, would always try and tear him down in every way. Nothing was too far or too low for him. Nothing was too much. He had to remember that. The man in the cage was a psychotic murderer, a monster without morals or a code. And even after Barry had gotten the life he wanted, the killer was still making it hard to appreciate it.

Barry approached the warehouse at superspeed, dread gnawing at his gut. When he entered the spacious room and crossed it, he could hear Eobard whistling an unfamiliar and strange tune.

In spite of the incident, Barry still had a simple routine for his prisoner that he stuck to. Bring him a meal once a day. Once a week, bring him a tub of water and some soap - along with a certain number of a certain undergarment that really needed changing on a daily basis - nothing more, nothing less. Four times now since Barry had imprisoned him, but number five was approaching. Tomorrow would be the day.

One thing _had_ changed since the incident. Barry had started bringing Eobard salads and fruits instead of Big Belly Burger. He couldn’t even fathom the thought of another goddamned, fast food bag, which a part of him blamed in the first place for the entire incident. Eobard had been less than pleased with the vegan diet he’d been receiving, seeming to believe it was a form punishment. Maybe it was, Barry admitted to himself. He _could_ have gotten the speedster more substantial food that wasn't from a restaurant, after all. And it wasn't like he was anymore endeared to the malignant speedster after their time together.

He wanted to gag at the thought.

Eobard stopped whistling and looked up. “I used to look forward to dinner,” he said. “Now, I don’t.”

“Yeah, well, too bad for you,” Barry spat. “I guess we don’t always get what we want, huh?” He shoved the food through the slot and yanked his hand back as fast as possible.

Eobard followed the movement, and he snorted. His eyes met Barry's. He smirked. “It’s quite funny, actually... You lost control, and now you want it back. But you can’t get it back, can you?”

"I don't have to listen to you." Barry turned and started to walk away. "By the way. I'm not having any control issues," he called back.

“Barry.”

He froze, surprised at how the words were spoken in an almost...gentle manner.

_“What?”_ He asked in annoyance, spinning back around. He didn't just leave instead because he figured if Thawne wasn’t moaning, he himself wasn’t going to do something stupid.

Great. Where had _that_ thought come from? His humor was awful at times, he reflected. No, the true reason he didn't leave was because he was in perfect control of himself.

Eobard narrowed his eyes. “You aren’t curious, at all?”

“About what?”

“About why I did what I did?”

Barry stared at him, measuring him, trying to determine his goal in asking such a question.

Thawne’s expression was unreadable. 

Barry scoffed, his resentment growing. “No. I'm not curious. Cause I know the answer. You’re insane.”

Eobard gave a low laugh, face twisted. "Insanity is relative, Flash."

"Maybe for you," Barry replied.

"And if _I'm_ the insane one...what does that make _you_ , hero? _You_ came to _me_ , if you'll recall. After all, you're the one with a key to this cage."

Barry stared at him.

Thawne plowed on, “scared of the truth? Of what's before you? Not just physically, but futuristically? Your destiny? After all, unlike everything else you have, you _can't_ get rid of _me_.”

Barry hesitated just slightly. “I’m not scared of you, Thawne. Or the future. You had a little vault in that other timeline that said Iris West-Allen on a future newspaper, you know.”

"Dear Miss West doesn't have your longevity," Eobard pointed out dryly. "She died in 2097 of natural causes. You still looked thirty at her funeral. I was born in 2151."

Barry's heart clenched, knowing that truth - that he'd outlive the woman he loved.

“And if you aren't scared of _that_ , then tell me why,” Eobard demanded, standing and pacing across the cage. He placed his hands on the wall of it. “Tell me why you will barely look at me now. I think what occurred between us the other day was the ultimate definition of _no strings attached_.”

"Maybe because I have a sense of morality that you don't," Barry hissed.

Eobard leaned forward. "If you did. We wouldn't be having this conversation right now, for _so_ many reasons."

Barry managed to not flinch at either the proximity or the accusatory words. Though, even now, when the truth was thrown into the open like this, all he could do was look away and shake his head. “I don’t owe you any answers,” he muttered.

Eobard's lips curled with cruelty. "It's because you don't have _any_ to give."

"Shut the hell up." Barry turned and stormed away.

Eobard didn’t make a sound, but Barry could feel his icy eyes locked on him with every step he took until he was outside again.

* * *

Barry inhaled, exhaled, trying to prepare himself for what might be inside. These regular doses of anxiety couldn't be healthy, he observed moodily, but Eobard was about as unpredictable as the weather. Some days, he said nothing to him. Most days, he quipped and argued endlessly. On rare days, they had almost-normal conversations - well, as normal as the Reverse and Flash could have, but those chats were typically dry, emotionless, and pointless.

He carried the tub of water and soap in, traipsing across the warehouse with almost-caution.

Barry froze.

He didn't drop the tub, but it was a near thing.

Eobard had stripped down to his underwear and was doing push-ups on the floor of the cell, beads of sweat rolling across his body. He was actually very well-built, a fact Barry hadn’t truly acknowledged before now. With Thawne's muscles bulging, rippling, shining, it was hard not to stare, but he managed. He forced himself not to roam his gaze over the entire form that was Eobard Thawne. But he wanted to. He’d never seen this much skin of the man. Eobard had barely moved his suit when he’d…

_When he..._

The briefest memory of pleasure flashed through his mind, of Eobard inside of him-

_Get ahold of yourself._

He clenched his jaw, tightened his hold on the tub, and finished crossing the warehouse. Barry opened the large slot at the bottom of the door, and pushed the tub and soap in as nonchalantly as possible. It was harder to do than he'd expected. When he pulled his hand back, he realized it was shaking just a little with Speed Force - the faintest, tiniest arcs of electricity leaping from his fingers. His heart was beating just a little too fast, too, even for a speedster.

Eobard finished his push-ups and sat up like a snake, quick and unsettling. Barry had to physically keep himself from flinching. "A gift, for you," he announced as lightly as possible. "Enjoy."

“So thoughtful,” Thawne sneered at him, breathing upset.

“What are you doing?”

Eobard rolled his eyes. “I thought even _you_ would know what _exercising_ is, moron. Without my speed, I have to actually make an effort to stay in shape. You have my gratitude for that," he added mockingly.

"More like _attitude_ ," Barry muttered.

Still, what Eobard said was true. Barry realized how easy it was to take his own powers for granted, even after Farooq and Zoom had temporarily removed them. He'd gained so many advantages, but he barely ever gave them thought.

The Man in Yellow stared at him, and the almost predatory look in his eyes made a shiver run down Barry's spine. Eobard’s face twisted into his usual, dark smirk. He laughed a little, before standing and straightening to his full height. On level ground, Barry wasn’t shorter than Eobard, but here, the other speedster was able to look down his nose at Barry due to the cage floor's height. An almost familiar look settled on his face. “Say it,” he whispered.

“Say what?” Barry replied. He didn't leave this time, either. In spite of how this game had gone down previously, he found himself unable to refuse playing it. Yes, he truly was an idiot, he admitted to himself, but there was a certain ritual between the Flash and the Reverse that couldn't be ignored, regardless of timeline or circumstance.

“You like this,” Eobard replied. He gestured at himself then turned the action into reaching down and stripping his underwear off, bending and picking each foot up at a time to rid himself of them, now completely nude. He straightened again.

Barry would never have been prepared for an image like that. He’d seen so very few other human beings in the nude, and there had always been a lingering discomfort each time he had, even if that person had been...intimate with him. But here and now, he didn’t feel uncomfortable, exactly. Though maybe that word wasn’t so inaccurate. It  _was_ different, though, because he found his eyes drifting lower without permission, taking in the size of Thawne’s large endowment.

He changed the rules of the game. “And what if I did?” he gave without giving - a challenge - all while ignoring the heat blistering his cheeks. The room was stifling, like last time.

Eobard’s smirk softened just enough that the change was noticeable, but no more. “Then maybe I’d have to reassess my evaluation of your intelligence.” He turned away.

Barry wasn’t prepared, either, for how the sudden sight of Thawne’s ass turned his insides to mush. It was tight with muscle, and he found himself wondering what it’d be like, to squeeze it with his fingers, what it would feel like in the palm of his hand-

_Stop it. Stop it. Stop it._ He repeated to himself, trying to think straight. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples, but when he opened them, his problem was still in his line of vision. Eobard knelt beside the tub, and began to wash himself in _front of him_. He splashed water across his toned body, then soaped up, white lather on his pale skin. Barry watched and watched and he didn’t even know why anymore. Or maybe he didn't want to know. Or maybe he did, and he pretended he didn't.

What he did know, was that there was one very naked, very ripped, very wet speedster in the same room with him, separated by a mere wall of glass and steel.

He shook his head, snapping his thoughts to reality. “I-I should go.”

He didn't move.

“Should you?” Eobard asked, rinsing. “Where to? Iris West? Or maybe Mommy? Going to cry and tell her what a bad boy you really are instead of the precious angel that can do no harm that she sees you as? Time to confess your sins, Naughty Boy?”

Anger hit Barry, hot and fierce. “Don’t talk about _any_ of them,” he snarled, stepping forward. "You don't have that right."

“Or _what?_ You'll lock me in a cage and force me to eat rabbit food? ...oh, wait, you've already done that.” Eobard dripped water across his shoulders and chest, and Barry found himself tracking the little beads shimmering and trickling across his skin. Eobard dunked his head in the tub and jerked it up, hair slinging water with the movement. He blinked drops from his eyes, focusing on Barry again. “I know you want to come in here, _Flash_ ,” he murmured, almost gently. He licked his lips, eyes locked on Barry, water racing down his face from his slicked-down hair, dripping from the edges of his beard.

That _look_ was-

_Was..._

Barry couldn’t remember his shame in that moment. He couldn’t remember his guilt. He couldn’t even remember, exactly, how awful it’d been after the _incident_ , even though he had a vague impression that it had been. It was like a drug, he reflected. He could take the hit for the high, even knowing the low that would follow. He took off his jacket, throwing it aside. Thawne wouldn’t be undressing him this time. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, not oblivious to the devilish eyes tracking him hungrily. He pushed it off, adding it to the floor with his jacket.

Eobard growled like a wild animal and splashed more water across himself, shifting the tub into a position where his entire body could be fully visible to his captor. He spread his legs and stroked across the hardening length between them. He smiled, expression diabolical as he squeezed himself. He parted his lips in a silent moan. "Come on, Barry," he whispered. "We both know you want this inside you. This is _your_ phantasmagoria, after all - your fantasy and playground, with no rules."

That lightning feeling struck Barry again, the magnetism, the intense lust that was so deadly and unexpected and irresistible. His entire body shivered. Abandoning any pretenses of control or restraint, he kicked off his shoes and ripped away his socks. He fumbled with his zipper, his jeans, and pushed them off. He pulled down his underwear, and it was almost a relief - not just to be free of the confines of his clothes, but to just embrace this desire, to just accept it.

He still had enough sense left to grab the key before entering the cell unclothed. That’d be just his luck, to get locked in the cage to starve to death with his worst enemy while completely naked.

He pushed away the weird thought.

“That’s it,” Eobard encouraged in a gentle voice, still having not moved as if he thought he might spook an easily-startled animal. "Don't resist the need...there's a reason for your desire, Flash." His fingertips glided over the foggy water in the tub, as slow and mesmerizing as before.

The cell's lock clicked in place.

Barry knelt on the other side of the tub, almost daring Eobard to make the first move this time. He placed his own fingers in the water, almost touching Thawne’s, but not quite. He rippled the water and flexed his body, hoping it looked more desirable than he thought it did. He had muscle, of course, but not like Eobard did. “Aren’t you going to come and get me, Thawne?” he breathed, not knowing for sure what he was trying to accomplish with his odd actions.

Eobard shifted for the first time since Barry had entered the cage. He smiled, moving to stand. But he didn’t approached Barry. He sat on his cot, beckoning.

Barry felt his erection now, already hard without doing a thing. Anything physical, anyway. He bit his lip and shook his head, determined to not give even another inch.

The Flash didn't just _give in_ to the Reverse Flash.

Eobard scowled, eyes flashing. “If you really wish me to drag you over here, I will. I’m sure you can tell by our body sizes that I’ll easily overpower you in this scenario where neither of us have our powers.”

Barry didn’t budge, even with the growing desire igniting his insides - even at the vague threat.

Eobard exhaled again. “Fine.” He stood and crossed over to Barry. The Reverse stared into his eyes, expression contemplative, though Barry couldn’t figure out why. All he knew, was how close their exposed bodies were, and how that sent _vibrations_ running down his entire form, even without superspeed. Not to mention other... _feelings_. 

Barry, still kneeling, didn’t fight when Thawne’s fingers wove into his hair. "You _want_ me to drag you over there," Thawne accused suddenly, brows furrowed in a frown. "Don't you? Because of that, I won't do it."

"Won't you?" Barry whispered, having no sense of who he was or what he'd done with the _actual_ Barry Allen. _Or maybe this_ is _who I really am,_ the dark thought flitted through his mind. _Weak, stupid, lusting after a monster, giving myself to him willingly._ After all, this was _him_ , here and now, gazing up at the man who'd once murdered his mother. It didn't matter that this was a different timeline. All of the events from the other one were still very real memories for him.

Thawne smirked. "While you're down there, you may as well make your mouth useful. Open, Pet. _Now_."

Barry looked up at him and smirked right back. "You think I'm going to make it that easy, Tha-?"

He choked when Eobard slammed into his mouth, accidently scraping his teeth. The Reverse gasped in pain. Barry would have winced in sympathy, if he wasn't wincing for an entirely different reason. His mouth felt jacked open, and he struggled against the urge to gag. Thawne was _huge_ , thick, and long. _Fuck_. Strong fingers scraped his scalp as the Reverse tightened his hold on the Flash. Barry didn't mean to, but he swallowed reflexively.

Thawne moaned, pushing deeper. " _God_."

A thrill ran through Barry, even as he choked again.

"I've always wanted to do this," Thawne exhaled above Barry. "Future you never sucked me like this, after all. Even though _I_ sucked him plenty of times." 

The Reverse pulled back. He drove forward into Barry's throat again, and Flash gagged, unsure of how to control his reflex. His eyes watered. After a soft noise of appreciation, Eobard pulled back and slid out of Barry's mouth with a bold, wet pop, watching him swallow multiple times while gasping for breath in the momentary lull. Strands of saliva were strung between Barry's lips and Eobard's cock, lewd and obnoxious in appearance. Besides the ache in his throat, Barry felt something like determination bubbling up in him, and he took the wet erection back into his mouth. Eobard's face lit with surprise, then morphed into satisfaction.

He snapped his hips forward, and Barry's vision blurred more. He felt the tears slide down his cheeks, and he blinked rapidly. He employed his tongue, sliding it across and around the hard length.

Eobard's mouth fell open as he panted at the air. He blinked down at Barry. "Beautiful," he murmured, tone excited. "I've always enjoyed choking you with my fists...but this is special." He pumped into the Flash's throat, moaning at the suffocated noise that left Barry.

His fingers loosened and he drew his hand across Barry's head, stroking him. Barry shivered, needing to breathe and trying not to panic at the inability to pull air into his lungs. He started to pull back, but Eobard retangled his fingers into Barry's hair and held him there. Barry felt his heartrate increase, about to fight back, but Eobard drew his erection out of his lips. The Flash coughed and took the moment to catch his breath, greedily sucking air. He tasted something bitter now, and he did his best to ignore it. It was hard to, though, when he noticed the white dripping from the tip of Eobard's length.

"That's enough," Eobard grunted suddenly and tugged upward on the Flash's hair, encouraging him to a stand. Thawne's jaw worked as he stared into his eyes, his own wet hair sticking in clumps on his head. "You really do look _so_ young, in this century, Flash. Though I can see _him_ , too. Interesting, really.” He tilted his head. “I don’t suppose you brought any lube?”

Barry shook his head. “I didn’t think I’d do this again." His voice was rough, and his vocal chords twinged in discomfort.

Eobard's gaze filled with even more desire at Barry's hoarseness. “I knew you would do this again,” he replied. “You should've listened to me... I’ll make do, regardless.” He pushed Barry back against the wall of the cage, and his hand found Barry’s erection. Eobard was certainly not being choosey this time about touching him.

With his other hand, he wiped the tears that were still on Barry's face away with his thumb.

Barry did _not_ need that false gesture of caring. It turned his insides.

He shuddered at the hand coaxing him into further pleasure. His cock leaked, and he groaned, hips jerking of their own accord for more. Eobard gave a small, satisfied grunt. He stroked down and took the fluid into his fist when he pulled off of Barry, eliciting another intake of air from the Flash. He spat on his fingers, rubbing them together to combine the saliva and the precum into makeshift lube. He reached around Barry to his entrance, sliding his slick fingers in with a single, fluid motion. It was wetter than Barry had expected and felt good. He groaned, spreading his hips further apart and pushing down, hoping to feel more of Eobard. He kept shivering, even though his skin was burning hot again, his blood on fire.

“Always beautiful,” Eobard repeated, eyes half-lidded as he slipped into that almost trance-like reverie of his, “in any century.” He positioned himself so they were both groin to groin, and began to grind forward. He moved his hand simultaneously.

Barry felt the stretch and the pressure and squirmed for a better position.

He found it.

Eobard’s finger hit the spot, and he stroked, slowly, firmly. His wet erection ground on Barry's. "You like that?" He whispered.

Barry _melted_ , groaning from the depths of his chest. " _Yes_.That's _it_ ," escaped his lips. He felt his heart pounding against his ribs, sweat rolling over his body, his mind losing focus. He knew he was _close_.

Eobard's eyes darkened. He slipped his fingers out and stopped moving. Barry blinked. He opened his mouth to protest the lack of stimulation, but Thawne gripped his hips, one hand wet, the other dry, lifting him up and slamming him hard against the glass. Barry gasped at the pain that surged through him when his head hit the wall, but wrapped his legs around Eobard’s waist as if the action was a reflexive instinct. He shook with need, pressed between the cold of the glass and the heat of Eobard's body. He was unable to move.

Eobard thrusted into him. Barry inhaled, shuddering, feeling the other man fill him. There was a faint pain, but nothing like the last time he’d been shoved into, and it faded quickly as Thawne worked his hips, pumping in and out.

“You’re everything,” Eobard rasped, increasing his speed. The Flash moaned and wrapped his arms around his Reverse's shoulders, legs tightening as he stared into the monster's eyes. “You’re the reason I’m here, now. Why I became a speedster. Why my entire life changed. You’re the only reason that I experienced all that I have.” His face abruptly shifted from reverie to something wilder, more maniacal. Barry didn't need to see it, though, so he threw his chin onto Eobard's shoulder - the fact he was fully embracing the killer that was fucking him utterly irrelevant - his cheek being scraped by a still-sopping wet beard. Any pretenses of caring or consideration vanished. Eobard moved harder and harder until his thighs were colliding with Barry's with what felt like the force of a nuclear bomb. The former hero was subjected to the familiar roughness and pain, though he was blown silent and thoughtless with indulgence. Eobard gripped his ass, fingers pressing with bruising force into his flesh.

“I _loved_ you, you know,” Reverse Flash growled. “I... You were my _hero_ ,” he hissed, voice inky with something like anger, but more intense and deeper. “But you threw that _all_ in my face - because you're cruel and you care about no one but yourself. This brave, new world of yours just proves it, your Flashpoint. Even as young as you are - you're the villain here - not me.” 

Barry absorbed Thawne’s guttural snarls in his ears, the pounding inside of his body. He felt how tight Thawne's hold was now, nails digging into his flesh. Warm droplets of blood welled from the painful cuts left in his skin by those unforgiving fingers. He moaned, vaguely wondering if he shouldn’t try to escape the vicious speedster. A dumb thought, he ruminated, because he already knew he couldn’t. And even if he could, he didn’t want to. Somehow, he enjoyed this, in all of its wrongness and perversion and disgustingness - in its forbidden fruit quality.

Wasn't Flashpoint - as Thawne so creatively called it - the epitome of indulgence, after all?

“And for that... I...want...to...kill...you…” Eobard panted, voice starting to lose its power, its steadiness, and Barry could feel him _deep_ inside now. “I wish...I could...right now...but I can’t...” He dragged across Barry's prostate with his thick cock, hard and unrelenting. “I hate you!” Eobard snarled. His body went rigid in Barry's arms, and he came hard as soon as the words left his mouth, spasming under the Flash as he flooded him with wet and warmth.

“I...haven’t...done...anything to...you,” Barry panted, trying to think straight with the sensation of Eobard's ejaculation surging into him. It was utterly heady, and he was mindless with pleasure from the rough stimulation. He was still fully hard, and the faint worry that he would be neglected because of Thawne’s mood swings filled him. He tugged with his legs in an effort to remind Eobard of his needs, cock throbbing.

“You...will,” Eobard replied, gasping for air, sliding out of Barry, whose legs dropped down until his feet were on the ground. The Reverse wound his hand around Barry's erection and tugged. Barry moved his hips, grinding against Eobard’s wet, warm palm with a desperate speed. “There, there,” breathed Eobard, his smile returning. He moved his hands in accordance with the Flash's rhythm. "Come for me, my prepossessing Flash."

_My Barry,_ echoed in his head from another timeline.

Barry arched against the cage wall, climaxing in Eobard’s caress. Semen spilled from his cock onto the Reverse whose face showed blatant satisfaction. Barry's head thumped back on the glass and he gasped, unable to focus for several seconds, eyes staring into the lights above his head. He shuddered and moaned until the rapture faded and his erection softened. He lowered his gaze and saw Eobard turning away. But he didn't miss the usual, fiendish smirk stuck there on his lips.

Barry blinked several times as he focused. “What did I _do_ to you that made you hate me so much?” He wasn't sure why he was asking. He knew Eobard wasn't going to answer. He never did.

True to the expectation, Eobard ignored him, rinsing himself with the water. He materialized his friction proof suit from somewhere and pulled it on. “Leave,” he hissed. He pivoted back, eyebrows raised. “Oh, and if you think about it, bring lube next time...or don't... We make do well enough, I suppose, without it." Here, his face turned into a maniacal grin, "...and definitely bring the Flash suit.”

Right. Psychopath.

“Don’t count on it,” Barry replied, struggling against the abrupt but expected guilt that was starting to settle in his stomach.

Thawne laughed.

Barry quickly located the key he’d sat near the tub and exited the cage. He dressed in superspeed and dashed away.

He didn't let himself feel the self-loathing. Not yet. He would of course, in time. But for now, he just wanted to enjoy the after effects of sex - no matter how his stomach tried to twist in response.

* * *

Eobard looked up at the sound of the warehouse door opening. In a burst of Speed Force, Barry appeared. Eobard felt his eyes widen when he saw the red suit with the white emblem and golden lightning bolt, though it wasn't nearly as extravagant as the future version of it. “Huh,” he said aloud without meaning to. A sensation struck him, wild and needy. He stood and leaned against the cage, not bothering to hide how much the sight of the suit sent him into spirals of dizziness. It felt like years since he'd last seen Barry Allen as the actual hero of Central City, the Scarlet Speedster.

The _Flash_.

The Flash walked up to the cage, eyeing him. “I hate you,” he growled, but his voice was thick with need and lacked conviction. The suit was bulging between his legs, even if he seemed to be ignoring it for now. He held up a bag that proclaimed _Big Belly Burger._

“And I hate you,” Eobard returned, gleeful. He felt his hands curl into eager fists. "God, I’m glad you aren’t as stupid as I originally thought.”

Flash was in the cell in the next moment, and he pressed up against Eobard. "I hate you, but I want you," he snapped, almost sounding accusatory, as if he blamed Eobard and resented him for this transgression on his own part. And it was probably fair. After all, Eobard _had_ seduced him first.

_I want you_ echoed in Eobard's head, though. "Then come get me, _Flash_."


End file.
